The Red Baby Grand Piano
Posted: Thursday, June 07, 2007
by Judi Lake
Judi Lake Advertising
As I hold my sleeping, exhausted child in my arms, my mind flashes back seven years ago.
“Oh, Judi, it’s such a shame you had that child at the peak of your career. Now you will never know your potential. Oh, well, get her set up and let’s get to work!"
“’Morning Helen. I see you’re your usual ‘cranky old self’ today. How are you, by the way?"
“Enough, Helen, enough. Like you said, let’s get to work…."
Helen was an 88 year old, extremely bullheaded, cantankerous woman. A well known self-published author of Southampton, L.I., she had contacted me to finish her latest book project. I agreed and initially met with her at her home to help organize the project. She was a fascinating woman who caught my attention with the many reflections of her past.
Helen was indeed a woman ahead of her time. In the 1930s, when most women were homemakers, the college graduate was a buyer for New York City’s now defunct department store, Gimbels. Vowing never to marry, she lived life as she chose with her only responsibility being to herself.
Shortly before Helen had hired my services, I had closed my Manhattan Ad Agency. Although thriving, motherhood and marriage had altered my priorities and technology had enabled me to work from home. Once Laura was born, my clients were accustomed to the set-up and, when I had to travel, I brought my child with me. By the time Laura was six months old, she was already a seasoned traveler.
An avid reader all of my life, I eventually let go of many advertising accounts to concentrate solely on the design and production of books. Helen had her reputation and I mine and somehow, together, we worked well. I learned from the beginning to ‘ignore’ Helen’s abrasive nature and found within her soul a truly remarkable woman.
As time progressed, I had learned many things about Helen that intrigued me but was especially fascinated with the red baby grand piano in her living room. Suspecting that sadness was associated with the piano, I never asked about it and Helen never spoke once about it’s history. Clearly not used for decades, it was in pristine condition and an impressive focal point to the room.
The one book project with Helen turned into five book projects and the following two years were spent working very closely with this woman. As often as I was in her home, hired help, never family or friends, surrounded her. Eventually, she spent less time ‘working’ with me and more time tending to my daughter.
“Ah, Miss Helen, you do have a soul afterwards," I would often joke.
“You hush now, and bring your beautiful daughter to me. My, how she’s growing!"
As time progressed, Helen’s health began to deteriorate. Her breathing was forced and she seemed to be getting weaker. Our new ritual included the elevation of her legs with pillows and placing my daughter on her lap.
One morning, as I prepared to meet with her, I received the phone call that Miss Helen had passed away during the night. Although prepared for this, I was still shocked and felt sad. Unknowingly to Helen, I had stopped invoicing her over a year ago, and genuinely looked forward to our ‘visits’.
In memory of Helen, I had decided to publish her work myself. I was honored and privileged to fulfill this woman’s dream and carry out her legacy. To my knowledge, her books are still selling in many Long Island Universities and bookstores. Helen’s vanity and pride would have been very pleased.
Approximately a year after her death, an unexpected shipment was delivered to our home. It was Helen’s red grand piano. Attached to the piano, was an envelope that I tenderly opened.
“Dearest Judi,
You were a light to me during the winter of my life. Through you, I realize that I have spent my entire life self-absorbed and very lonely.
Although you never asked, this piano has always been a reminder to the choices I have made. I chose my career and you chose your family.
May God bless and your family always.
Fondly,
Helen"
To this day, my eyes fill with tears as I think of Helen. But she is right, I have made my choices, none of which I regret. Within my arms, this evening sleeps very soundly my own legacy, my precious daughter. Laura.
Today, I celebrate my 50th birthday happy and contented. As I gently rock my daughter, who had surgery today, I am grateful for my simple life. My 50th held no parties or any celebrations except being who I am: a mother who loves her family tremendously and for that I celebrate and for that I thank God.
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Top-level comments on this article: (4 total)Happy birthday Judi, what else could one ask for from life, but the fulfillment of a happy marriage and a precious daughter? By the way what was the surgery your daughter has undergone?Why thank you, 'Mr. David'! -- Laura had her tonsils and adnoids removed today and was very brave. My dad was also rushed to the hospital today which is how my 50th was spent but as I said in the article, this is my life which I really thank God for!
What a wonderful story, Judy and Happy Birthday! You certainally have a gift to make your readers think.Thank you for your comment, birithday wish and compliment, it touched me much!
What an awesome story! It brought tears to my eyes just reading it! Thanks so much for sharing it!Thanks for your comment, Laura. Life has been a tremendous teacher for me and I find joy in sharing these stories.
Judi, this is such a moving story that would be perfact for the Lifetime channel. Thank you so much for sharing this.
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